When All The Tears Are Gone
by morningstar115
Summary: Sequel to One Last Assignment. Best read after that story. Team-centric. Oneshot; possible epilogue. Rated K because there is no violence; but possible mild language. WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone!**

 **A couple people asked for the sequel to** ** _One Last Assignment,_ so here it is! ****If you liked the ending of _One Last Assignment_ and you don't want there to be any more to the story, don't read this. BUT if you wanted more closure, go right ahead. Reviews are welcome!**

 **Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH! (of course!) Also, characters may be a tiny bit OOC (grief is a hard emotion to predict).**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or the beautiful quote at the beginning of this story (I found it while I was writing this and I thought that it suits Gibbs perfectly. Tell me what you think.).**

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When All The Tears Are Gone

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" _What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal."_ Albert Pike

* * *

Anthony DiNozzo was depressed.  
He had a fairly good reason, he told himself. The smoking hot girl he'd met at the store that afternoon didn't want to go home with him. _Because she found out that he was law enforcement._ Ridiculous! Most girls thought that was hot!  
So now he had a double pepperoni pizza, a six pack of beer, and no one to share it with. It was almost six-thirty PM; to late to go to a bar and try for another date. So what now? A Saturday night without a girl? So should he go home and watch some more classic films? Alone?

No. What he really wanted to do was talk to somebody. About stuff. About life. About the weird churning in his gut that had been there all day.

Ducky was off spending the day with the Palmers in Quantico. Tim and Abby were spending at least part of the day together. And Tony would have to be really desperate to go to Ellie Bishop for advice.

So that left Gibbs.

Usually, Gibbs would be Tony's first choice for a confidant. But strangely, Tony didn't feel eager to go to Gibbs today. But why? Why was today different from any other day?

Tony had been driving aimlessly around town for a while. He pulled over and rubbed his face with both hands. "Anthony DiNozzo, Jr.; Gibbs is your boss. He's also your friend. If you've got a gut feeling that something's wrong, you should go to him." he told himself firmly.

Ten minutes later, he pulled up in front of Gibbs' house. Gibbs' truck sat in the driveway. Grabbing the beer and pizza box from the passenger seat, Tony meandered up the front steps. Without bothering to knock, he walked in. "Hey, Boss, do you want some pizza?" Silence answered him. "Boss!" Tony called louder, thinking that maybe Gibbs was in the basement.

But there was no answer.

Tony paused, sensing that something was very wrong. The very air seemed to be dead and cold. Leaving the pizza and beer on the hall table, he went to the doorway of the basement and peered down. The lights were out. "Gibbs?" he queried. No response.

"Maybe he's outside in the back." DiNozzo muttered to himself. Quickly he moved into the living room.

And froze instantly.

Gibbs was asleep on the couch.

But Gibbs never slept at this time of day.

And he would have woken up when he heard his senior field agent calling for him.

Before he even knew that he was moving, Tony found himself down on his knees beside the couch. "Boss? Boss! Gibbs! Gibbs, wake up!" He gripped the older man's arm, nearly shaking him.

But there was nothing. Hands shaking almost uncontrollably, Tony felt for a pulse.

Nothing.

 _Nothing._

Still shaking, Tony stood slowly, looking down at his boss.

Gibbs' skin had turned pale. His eyes were shut, his limbs sagging. But there was a tiny, almost imperceptible smile on his face. He looked…peaceful.

Tony stood next to the couch for at least five minutes, frozen, unable to think, move, or do anything but look down at the man who of all people had seemed immortal. Slowly, a thought crept up on him, bit by bit, only to pounce and overwhelm him in an instant.

 _Leroy Jethro Gibbs was dead._

* * *

 _Where were you when Tony called?_

That question was asked over and over again during the next few days.

Director Leon Vance was clearing some paperwork off his desk, preparing to head home when his phone rang. Checking the ID, he saw that it was Agent DiNozzo. "DiNozzo. I thought you had the day off."

 _"Gibbs is dead."_

Vance froze instantly. "What?" he demanded. He must have misunderstood.

He heard DiNozzo draw in his breath sharply. _"I just got to his house about a half and hour ago…I wanted to talk…He was laying on the couch. Director…"_ The agent's oddly calm grew tight and cut off sharply.

Vance leaned heavily on his desk. "Do you know…How did it happen?"

 _"All I can say for sure is that he wasn't shot or stabbed. No blood anywhere._ _In fact…He just looks like he went to sleep."_

The director of NCIS took a shuddery breath. "We can't rule out anything just yet; Gibbs has...had enemies. Can you call Dr. Mallard and his assistant? Or do you want me to get another ME?"

 _"No, I think Ducky…Dr. Mallard would will want to do it himself. I think he's with Palmer today…"_

"Okay, I'm on my way to Gibbs' house right now." Vance hung up abruptly and stared blankly at the wall.

The best agent and one of the finest men he had ever known was gone. What would happen to the MCRT team now?

* * *

Jimmy Palmer was helping Breena load the cart in a mall clothing store when he saw Dr. Mallard take the call. He heard Ducky's cheerful, "Oh, hello, Anthony! How can I help you?"

Jimmy looked away to speak with Breena for a moment. When he looked back at the doctor, he felt a jolt of fear. "Dr. Mallard!" he cried, rushing to catch the old man as he dropped his cell phone and collapsed on the ground. A hundred thoughts went racing through the front of his mind; the foremost of which was _another_ _heart attack._

After a few moments, however, it became clear that Ducky was not suffering from a heart attack, but from an assault of wrenching sobs. Jimmy, ignoring the curious glances from all sides, gripped his mentor in his arms and asked desperately, "Dr. Mallard, what is the matter? What has happened?" He glanced down at Ducky's cell phone, which had apparently hung up on Tony. Returning his attention to Ducky, he said urgently, "Dr. Mallard, what has happened? What did Agent DiNozzo tell you?"

By that point Breena had joined him on the floor. "What's wrong? Should I call 911?"

"No, not yet; it doesn't seem like he's having another heart attack…Dr. Mallard!"

Finally, Ducky looked up into the younger man's face. "That was Anthony…" He gasped, tears pouring down his face, before choking out, "Jethro…It's Jethro…He's gone."

* * *

Timothy McGee typed furiously. After a lovely morning with Abby, he'd come home for a long afternoon of writing. He was having several straight hours of inspiration and for once, his fingers couldn't tap the keys fast enough.

Then his phone rang. Glancing at it, he noted Tony's name on the display. He picked it up with one hand and continuing to type with the other, he said cheerfully, "Hey, Tony!"

"Tim." Something in his friend's voice caused McGee's hand to grow still on the keyboard. Tony sounded oddly detached…and almost scared. There was no hint of laughter or joking in his voice.

"Tony, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…Tim, it's the Boss." For the first time ever, McGee heard Tony's voice crack.

"Tony? What happened to Gibbs?" Tim asked fearfully, his stomach clenching. "Is he hurt? Did someone get to him?"

He heard a quiet sound like a stifled sob. "No, he's…He's gone, Tim. Our Boss is dead."

McGee felt the bottom of his world fall away. Slumping forward, smashing keys and causing gibberish to spew across the page, he gasped, " _What!_ Gibbs…dead? Tony…When? Where… _How?_ "

"I think…It may have been sometime last night or maybe early today…I'm at his house…I found him on the couch in his living room. I don't know how…I called the director and Ducky…Ducky didn't take it well; he hung up and I had to call Palmer…He was with him, thankfully…I think they're headed here, with the ME van…Director says we can't rule out foul play…" Tony's voice faded to nothing.

For the longest time, both remained silent, but neither could bear to hang up. McGee pushed himself back in his chair, shaking. This couldn't be happening. Gibbs, just up and dying? Not possible. Death should run from Gibbs.

But McGee also knew that Tony would never lie about something like this.

After a long, long pause, McGee whispered, "What should I do, Tony?"

As the words left his mouth, he realized that he'd probably be asking this a lot now. Because with Gibbs gone…Tony was the boss.

He heard Tony's voice quivering as he responded. "There's nothing you can do here…I'll call Bishop…But I need you to…to…"

McGee finished for him. "You need me to tell Abby."

"Yes…We can't just call her."

McGee shut his eyes for a moment. "I'll go to her place right now…Oh, God, Tony, how am I going to break it to her?"

"I don't know, Tim. I honestly don't know."

* * *

Ellie Bishop hung up her cell phone and collapsed on the sofa. The baseball game on the television droned on, but she couldn't hear it.

Jake walked into the room with an armful of laundry. "Hey, sweetie, I don't remember if this is a white or…Ellie! Are you okay?"

Ellie stood up slowly, staring beyond him at nothing. "No, Jake, I'm not." After enduring his worried gaze for a few moments longer, she said softly, "Agent Gibbs died."

Jake dropped the laundry. "What?"

Ellie began to cry. "He's gone, Jake. Gibbs is dead."

Her husband moved quickly forward and enveloped her in his arms. But no embrace could drive away the pain.

* * *

Timothy had truly intended to go straight to Abby's house. But it took him a very long time to find his keys, put on his coat, and make it outside to his car. The entire time, his mind was trapped in a strange, uncharted limbo-land where he couldn't understand what was happening, no matter how hard he tried. He kept forgetting to keep walking on the way down to his vehicle, and would jerk out of the miasma to find himself staring at a wall or out a window.

When he finally reached his car, he forgot where he was driving and nearly ended up at the Navy Yard twice. Eventually, he stopped and forced himself to pull together. But when he had snapped out of his haze, he realized that he had to see it for himself. He had to see Gibbs' body before he could accept the truth.

Pulling up to Gibbs' house, he saw that the ME van was already there. Dr. Mallard was sitting in the passenger seat, the door open. His elbows rested on his knees and his hands covered his face. McGee saw his shoulders shaking violently.

He came face-to-face with the director at the door. "McGee." Vance said quietly. Looking over at the ME van, he murmured, "Dr. Mallard took one look at Gibbs and stumbled out crying. Palmer took over." He then stood aside to allow McGee to enter.

Tony was standing in the hall, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. Tim approached him carefully. "Tony."

DiNozzo started and turned to face him. "Tim." he whispered. "I though you were going to Abby's."

"I had to see it myself first."

Tony nodded in understanding as Palmer walked into the hall, pale but composed. The Vance came up behind the other two men as the assistant began to speak.

"He died sometime around midnight. He had a bottle of bourbon by his side; so if someone killed him, they might have poisoned it."

"Do you think someone did?" Director asked as Tim felt Tony gripping his shoulder painfully hard.

Palmer took a deep, shuddering breath. "There's no sign of any struggle or poisoning. If I had to say it…I think he just fell asleep and never woke up."

After a long stretch of echoing silence, McGee moved swiftly into the living room. Tony followed.

Palmer and the director stared at each other for a minute. Finally, Palmer murmured, " _'To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die.'_ Thomas Campbell. A Scottish poet."

Vance looked toward the doorway of the room in which two agents were mourning the greatest man they had ever known. "You know, Mr. Palmer, that poet got it exactly right."

* * *

Abby was just getting ready to take a shower before bed when she heard a knock on the door. Hurrying to answer it, she found McGee standing on her doorstep. "Timmy!" she laughed, tackling him with a hug. "Didn't get enough of me this morning?" She pulled him inside. "Did you write lots today? You said you had a good feeling about a story. Want some dessert or something? I've got loads of food…You can stay the night if you want…But then, you won't want to sleep in the coffin…"

"Abby, stop."

Abby froze. Tim spoke quietly, but there was an undertone in his voice that scared the hell out of her. And now she saw clearly the expression on his face: Sadness. Deep, intense sorrow. "Timmy?" she whispered, subdued. "What happened?"

McGee took a deep breath and grasped her shoulders. "Tony and I agreed that I should be the one to tell you. Abby, there's no easy way to say this. Gibbs died last night. He went in his sleep. He's gone, Abby."

For the longest moment, Abby felt as if she were floating close above the ocean, mere inches separating her from a fathomless deep. Then the room spun around her and a childlike, agonized cry came from her throat as she fell towards the floor. She felt Tim trying to catch her; she heard him calling her name, but she could not reply. Out of the nearest window, she briefly glimpsed a piece of the clear night sky.

The world had ended. Why hadn't all the stars gone out?

* * *

 **So, everyone, there is an epilogue to this, too. But I won't publish it unless someone asks.**

 **The epilogue is set about five years after this story. It's very, _very_ fluffy. It includes Tiva and McAbby. If you think that an epilogue is totally wrong or you don't like those pairings, feel free to say so (without flaming, of course). IF I do end up posting the epilogue, you are under no obligation to read it. This ending can stand on its own.**

 **Thanks for reading! Happy New Year!**


	2. Epilogue

**The two people who reviewed this story both asked for an epilogue. So here it is!**

 **Contains Tiva, McAbby, and a some fluff along with a few bittersweet memories.**

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 _(Five Years Later)_

Before she even parked her car, she could see him leaning against a tree at the end of the parking lot. Instantly, a smile spread across her face. As always, just seeing him made her feel happy.

Climbing rapidly out of the car, she brushed her thick brown curls away from her forehead and approached him. He came to meet her. Without any hesitation, they embraced.

"Tony." she murmured in his ear.

"Ziva." He stroked her hair before pulling away. "Look at you! You haven't changed a bit! Now return the compliment!"

Ziva laughed out loud. "Oh, Tony, you haven't changed either!"

He smiled broadly. "Ha! I've got some grey now." He smoothed back his hair self-consciously, only to have Ziva muss it up a moment later. "Ready to take a walk?"

"Just let me get the flowers I brought." A minute later, arm in arm, they walked off across the green grass and gentle slopes of the graveyard.

"Tell me about everyone." Ziva begged Tony as they meandered among the memorial stones and ornamental trees.

Tony took a deep breath. "Well, where shall I begin?"

"Wherever you like."

"Let's see…Ducky. He's still puffing along, but he retired from NCIS after Gibbs…Well, he lives with the Palmers now, and is a doting grandfather to their four children; three girls and a boy."

"Is he still his old self?"

"He forgets some things, and he's not as spry as he used to be…But he's still the same old Ducky, always with a story to tell. Jimmy took over his job; our little Autopsy Gremlin now works as the NCIS Medical Examiner and has two assistants of his own."

"That's good. He must be getting quite independent. And I can't wait to see Ducky again…Now, tell me about Abby and McGee!"

"Abby managed to survive losing Gibbs; mostly because Tim never left her side. About a year after the funeral, he popped the question. He claims she said yes before he could finish his proposal! Poor McGeek; he probably had it written out and memorized."

Ziva chuckled. "I was so happy to hear that they got together…They were made for each other. And where are they now?"

"New York City. McGee got a job with FBI Cyber security, and Abby got a job in a FBI crime lab. They both had recommendations from Director Vance and Tobias Fornell…Vance is still director of NCIS and Fornell retired two years ago…Of course, Abby doesn't work as much anymore. Not since the babies came."

"So she really had twins?"

"Leroy Anthony and Jethro Timothy. Hard to believe they're already two years old…And if the rumors are true, there's another little Scuito-McGee on the way. They're hoping for a girl this time."

"I'm so looking forward to seeing them all…And what about you, Tony?"

Tony took a while to answer. In his head, he went over the aftermath of Gibbs' death; the painful funeral, the stinging arguments afterward, the splintering of the team. He recalled the awful night he'd stumbled down into Gibbs' basement, lain under the ribs of the unfinished boat, and sobbed for hours. There had been so many nights spent sitting at bar counters drinking far to much alcohol. And then there was the day when Ducky handed in his resignation…And that was just the beginning. McGee and Abby had left for NYC. Bishop had gone back to NSA. And Tony himself…He'd tried to hang on. But there wasn't much point, without the team there.

At last, he knew he could put of Ziva no longer.

"You're looking at a full-fledged plainclothes detective. I couldn't bear to stay at NCIS alone. So I joined Metro PD. I bought Gibbs' house…probably a mistake, the place feels like the inside of an iceberg most of the time…but I finally managed to finish that boat he was working on. I named it _The Special Agent._ I figured he'd like that."

Ziva smiled. "Yes, I believe he would." Abruptly, she said, "You heard I left Mossad?"

"Yes." Just then, they came to a sudden halt. They had reached the spot. Ziva turned to Tony.

"Do you want me to stay here? With you?"

"Yes, I do. With all my heart, Zee-vah."

She leaned up and kissed him gently. "No more Rule Twelve?"

"Nah, we're not coworkers anymore." Tony glanced skyward as Ziva knelt and gently placed the flowers she carried on the grave. "So don't head slap me from Heaven, Boss." Tony added once she'd stood up again.

They both laughed. Then, joining hands, they turned and walked away from the white marble headstone; on which was engraved:

 _Leroy Jethro Gibbs_

 _Father, Mentor, and Friend_

 _Semper Fi_

* * *

 _"Good men must die, but death cannot kill their names."_ Proverb

* * *

 **Not as fluffy as I originally thought, but sweet.**

 **I can't believe that I posted my first fan fiction story last night, and already I've got three up and almost twenty reviews (altogether) and goodness knows how many readers! It's all kind of surreal! I know a lot of you probably think it's not much, but it's a big deal for me.**

 **Thank you for reading and have a very Happy New Year!**


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